In The Wrong Hands
by DaughteroftheOneTrueKing
Summary: Ollivander meets a customer that he will never forget... and that he wishes he could.


**Morning/afternoon/evening to those of you who find this fic. I think you all know the drill at this point, but here you go in case you're new: This is for the QLFC forum for the Wasps team, where I'm the Captain. This is round six, where we had to choose a month and write a fic about a character given for that month. We choose September, which had the characters Hermione Granger, Garrick Ollivander, and Madam Chang, Cho's mother. I decided to go with Ollivander, so here goes! Hope you like this!**

 **Word Count: 1695**

Ollivander remembered every person that ever walked into his shop. His exceptional memory was something he prided himself on for the most part, but sometimes he wished that he could forget. It was too painful to think about those who had passed through his small shop and gone on to leave unfortunate legacies.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the ringing of his shop door as it opened, allowing a family of three to enter. The parents looked amazed at the whirling stars on the ceiling, the many wands lying all around, and the moving tiles on the ground, leading him to assume that they were Muggles, while the little girl, a bubbly redhead, looked at him in unconcealed excitement.

"Welcome to my shop…" Ollivander always gave the students a moment or two to introduce themselves. He found that it helped them relax, and that was always key to finding them the perfect wand.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said, grinning at him. As she did, he noticed her brilliant green eyes. They were almost luminescent, shining with eager anticipation. "These are my parents. We need a wand, I guess? I think wands are really cool. How do they work? How do you make them? Is it difficult?"

Her mother placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Lily, give the man a chance to answer." Turning to him, she said, "I'm sorry. She gets over-excited a lot, especially recently." Despite the reprimand, Ollivander could sense that both Evans parents were extremely proud of their daughter.

He didn't have many customers who seemed interested in wandmaking (most just wanted to buy one and get out), so he was quite happy to answer the girl's questions. "It's no problem, madam." To Miss Evans, he said, "I'm glad you're so interested. Wands work by channeling your own magic into the fine point of the wand, making your aim more accurate. Advanced magic teaches you to use magic without wands, and young children's magic is done wandlessly, but wands are widely accepted as the best way to channel and focus magic."

"Wow, okay," young Miss Evans seemed fascinated by this. "What materials are the wands made of? What will my wand be like?"

"The wand chooses the witch, my dear," Ollivander explained. "If the wand doesn't work with you, it won't let you perform magic, or it will be severely underpowered. Almost no two wands are the same, either with different cores or different wood types. The main three types of cores are unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feather. Other things are used on occasion, but not often. Woods vary, but almost any type of tree will do. Wood types and cores mean different things both separately and combined." He smiled at the young witch listening with such rapt attention. "Let's get your wand sorted out. Which is your dominant hand?"

"I write with my left hand," she said. "It that what you mean?"

Nodding, Ollivander flicked his own wand, having the measuring tape on the register take measurements while he climbed up the ladder to grab a couple of wands for the girl to try.

Picking up a couple of them, he paused for a moment, his hand pausing over a third box. It was a wand that he had never had a student try, and as far as he knew, had been in the shop for a few generations now. Something about Miss Evans made him think that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one to claim it. Adding it to the pile, he hurried down the ladder and placed them on the desk, opening the first and delicately handing it to Miss Evans. "Try this one, it's cherry wood, dragon heartstring core. 8 ½ inches long. A fine wand for any young witch."

She stared at the wand, not quite knowing what to do with it. "Um… how am I supposed to know?"

"Give it a wave!' Ollivander gestured openly.

The girl nodded, pointing the wand at a table that only had a couple more wands on it and waving hard. The lids of the wand boxes shot up and broke against the ceiling. Her parents jumped in surprise, completely stunned by what had happened. Eyes wide, Miss Evans sat it down gently on the table. "Was it supposed to do that?"

Shaking his head, Ollivander handed her the next wand. "This one is silver lime, unicorn hair core, 12 ¾ inches long. A superb wand, one of my more recently made. Try it out, dear."

The girl took the second wand from him, waving it at the previous table. This time, it flipped upside down, spilling everything on it to the ground and snapping a leg off the table. The Evans parents stepped back to avoid the debris as it shot from the scattered items previously on the table. Miss Evans gingerly set the wand back on the counter, her face burning as red as her hair. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to do that!"

Ollivander smiled in consolation. He had plenty of students who destroyed various things in the shop, and it was a simple matter to fix it back up. "Not to worry, Miss Evans. It's easy to repair. _Reparo!"_ The table leg was promptly repaired, and with a second spell, the table righted itself, and the boxes and papers returned to their places. "That is simply not your wand, is all. Not to worry, we'll get you sorted."

Finally, the last wand he had brought down remained. Ollivander once again debated having her try it out, as it had been so long without any owner, but with the girl staring at him with anticipation gave him the most peculiar feeling. Something about her made him think that she would be very important someday. Very powerful. He opened the box and handed it to her. "This wand is one of the oldest wands in the shop, Miss Evans. It is made of willow wood, with a phoenix feather core. It is 10 ¼ inches long."

Miss Evans accepted the new wand and gave it a sharp wave at the same table once again. It floated off the floor a couple of inches, but that wasn't what told him that this was the wand for her. The grin on her face said everything as she gripped it more confidently. "I think that's the one."

Ollivander nodded in agreement, surprised that the wand had accepted her. "It seems so. It is a quite powerful wand. Your professors should watch you closely, you will be a very powerful witch." He almost stopped there, but continued. "Willow wands are quite rare indeed, Miss Evans. There is an old family proverb of mine; he who has the furthest to go will travel fastest with willow. You have a great journey ahead of you, but this wand will serve you well."

The young girl's smile turned to a determined expression as she looked at her parents. "This wand is the wand for me. I want to buy it."

Mr. Evans seemed to be confused by everything they were saying about wands and woods, but at his daughter's prompting, took a wallet out of his pocket and took a few notes out of it.

"Daddy, they don't take pounds," Miss Evans reminded her father, pointing to a bag beside him.

Mr. Evans laughed as he reached for the bag and pulled out a few Galleons from within the bag. "Hehe, I forgot that you wizards use these big coins as your currency. How much is it, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Nine Galleons," Ollivander informed him. Mr. Evans handed him several Galleons as payment, placing the extra in the bag once again.

"Thank you, sir," Miss Evans said, placing the wand in its box and sticking it in another of the bags they were carrying. She stared up at him, a burning question in her eyes. "Um… can I ask you something? I'm Muggleborn so I don't know anything really about this world."

Ollivander smiled sympathetically at the young girl. He often had students asking him questions. "Of course, what's the matter?"

She breathed deeply before she asked her question. "My friend Severus said that Muggleborns aren't very common, and that some people don't like us and treat us differently. Is that true?"

Ollivander was silent for a moment. How could he tell a little girl that some people in the Wizarding World would keep her out of their world, and treat her like a second rate citizen? "Well, it's not that simple, my dear. Yes, there are a select few people who believe that they are superior to young ladies like you. They are quite rare, however, and they tend to stay together and conspire, but they don't often accomplish very much."

Miss Evans pursed her lips. "Right, thanks Mr. Ollivander. I know I must seem kind of silly and annoying to you, but I just wanted to know. Thanks for being honest."

"I am happy to provide wisdom and advice to any who ask," Ollivander placed the discarded wands back in their boxes as he spoke. "I will be very intrigued to see what your journey turns out to be, Miss Evans. Do come to see me once you realize it if you are able."

The girl smiled once again as she said, "I'll try, sir. I hope it's something good, though."

Mrs. Evans looked at her watch. "Lily, it's nearly lunchtime, let's go get something to eat, yes, sweetheart?"

She turned to her mother as they began to leave, "That sounds good, Mum." She called over her shoulder as they exited the shop, "I'll see you soon, Mr. Ollivander!"

As he watched the small family leave, Ollivander had no idea that he would not see her again until ten years later, on the obituaries page of the Daily Prophet. As long as he lived, it was one thing that he knew he would never forget, and the one thing that he wished that he could.

How could you forget that you had sold something to a girl who would be dead before she'd even really lived?


End file.
